The Doctor Dreams
by Simply Lily
Summary: Rose is struggling to adjust to her new life sans the Doctor, only to find out there's an alt!version of Nine around. Meanwhile, the Tenth Doctor get stuck on Bargaining and discovers he's gone somewhat insane. 9Rose, 10Rose later. Spoilers to 3x03
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, but please sue. How else would I ever get to meet Russel T. Davies? See you in court, T, I'll be the defendant wearing the Doctor Who t-shirt and fainting.

**Spoilers: **For Doomsday, and the Season 3 trailer, but not for Torchwood.

**Summary: **The Tenth Doctor starts to go through all the – um – _healthy_ stages of grief, when something miraculous happens. He gets to bargaining, bargains everything to see Rose again, and it works! But not quite how he would have wanted. And Rose... well, Rose is an entirely different story.

**Ships: **10\Rose, 9\Rose, but not at the same time!

**Rating: **PG, _maybe_ PG-13.

-

**Chapter 1**

-

**The Tenth Doctor, His World**

**:-: Denial :-:**

_How long are you gonna stay with me?_

_Forever._

Two days working as a waiter, wiping tables and serving and dealing with obnoxious custumers who deserved a banana shoved up their… _throats_. This was all he could do, this was his genius solution. It was useless, pathetic, unhealthy, and _especially_ dangerous, but he couldn't stop himself, try as he might.

No supernovas burning, no TARDIS tricks. Just cleaning and serving and waiting. The first time around, he didn't bother to check what day they had landed on, so now all he had was an approximated guess.

It took two days, and finally, she came.

Rose Tyler, beautiful and innocent, walked into the restaurant, followed closely by his Ninth incarnation, who already looked like he never wanted to let her go, and this was only their first date. They had chips.

She approached a table, confident in her own world, somehow changed after seeing it explode, and sent _her_ Doctor to fetch her some chips. That girl and her chips, now there was an impenetrable relationship to write poems about.

The Tenth Doctor remembered this day as if it happened mere minutes ago. He knew his former self would have to wait a long time for the chips, because apparently _someone_ didn't peal the potatoes as he was asked and will therefore probably be fired, and the poor boy in the counter was experiencing a violent hangover, also known as _TARDIS Made Him Woozy_, which would cause him to have terrible trouble calculating change.

All in all, those bloody chips would take at least ten minutes more than usual to obtain.

He liked it when things went his way, especially when _he_ was the one arranging them.

He cleaned a random table next to her, stealing looks. His Rose, delicate and just a little traumatized. He wondered if she remembered what he was about to do. Probably didn't, probably wrote it off as a normal person would, which was why this was possible for him to do.

"You all right, love?" he asked lightly, adopting an accent similar to hers.

Her head snapped in his direction, alarmed. "Oh, yes, I'm… fine, thank you," she murmured.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, managing only barely to keep his voice casual. "You sure? Y'look shaken… like you just" _saw planet Earth blow up_ "watched your dog get run over by an airplane." He paused, feigning discomfort, "You didn't really, did you?"

She chuckled, a million miles away from all humanity, and something inside him broke.

Why was he doing this to himself, anyway? He should be moving on, not stalking former companions.

"I don't have a dog," she said easily, as if the airplane scenario made more sense to her. "Just… weird day, you know?"

He frowned, "Weird as in… aliens invading?"

This time he got a full laugh, and he couldn't care less that it was more stress related than anything else. He just wanted to see her again. This was what this was all about, seeing her again.

"Not yet, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time," she said under her breath, with just a bit of bitterness. "Just… you know, sometimes the day takes you places you never thought… not that I'm complaining, just- I mean, I was supposed to be sorting through t-shirts right about now."

His Rose Tyler. Now trapped in another dimension, no longer his. Sitting here, thinking she didn't quite belong in the Doctor's crazy life, when it was really him that didn't belong with her, didn't deserve her.

She craned her neck, trying to get a glimpse of her current Doctor. "What's taking him so long? I'm hungry. Sure is taking his sweet time doin' anything t'day," she mumbled to herself, crossing her arms with annoyance.

Well, that was quite a low blow at his former self. It's not like he took his sweet time on _purpose_. Still, she had spunk, that girl.

He was tempted to say something else, but enough was enough. If he continued being quirky-yet-charming, she might remember him, or, no less harmful, take too much interest in him. Also, the pain it was causing him was already almost too much to bear.

He stayed close to that table the entire time, watching them talk and laugh and slowly become who they were, memorizing every little movement. Every expression, every smile, and all the while he still wondered what good can possibly come of this, and maybe he should just regenerate right then and there and save himself living a lifetime of agony without her.

After they were done she actually smiled at _him_, the waiter who was nice to her. He was 900 years old and his breath was completely stolen away.

_Smiled_, straight at him; looked him in the eye and everything. A genuine Rose Tyler smile. Somewhat polite and distant, but still, directed right at him. Somehow, through cosmic powers that were stronger than him, he refrained from smiling like the idiot he was, and just grinned politely and nodded, keeping his head low.

Once they left, his _boss_ approached him. "What was _that_ about, mate?" he asked angrily.

The Doctor stared at him, as if he forgot he was even working there, "What was what?"

"You were _supposed_ to peel the potatoes! Customers had to wait forever for their damn chips!"

Did that midget really think he'd care about _potatoes_ when Rose Tyler _smiled_ at him? "Sorry."

"And how many times do I have to tell you? No. Flirting. With customers. I don't care if the bloody Spice Girls walk through that door, you hear?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes. Even _he_ knew that lunatic band of teenagers didn't exist on anyone's radar anymore. He took his apron off with something resembling glee. "Well, I'm sorry, but I don't want to work in a place where I can't woo the Spice Girls into marrying me. I quit. Goodbye, now. Have a great life. See you, then."

Same went for Rose. Goodbye, great life, see you, then. This was definitely the very last time he would do _anything _like this. Time to move on to runaway brides and whatever faith had in store for him.

Of course, having a time machine meant he could come back and save the world at any time, which was how, for the next couple of months, he rationalized living his life with Rose a second time, usually from a hidden corner, being careful not to cause any tears in time. But sometimes, when enough time passed for her tiny human brain to forget about him, he put on a disguise, changed his hair a little, played with dozens of accents, and talked to her.

Just for a few seconds every time, and never about anything significant, but enough for her to smile at him. He always found something to say that would make her smile, amusedly, sympathetically, with him, at him, however it turned out.

Like in Cardiff, 2006. The last time he could talk to her. It was a cheerful time, with Jack and Her Doctor and lots of laughter, he remembered. He did miss Jack, but Jack was somewhere in the universe. _This_ universe. The point was, this was a cheerful time for _Rose_, so she wouldn't take too much notice in him.

He took a job in this little store, Top Shop, and sorted through clothes for three days until they came. The other Doctor wasn't there, having more jumpers than he'd ever need, which was a good thing for him, as it would have forced him to hide.

They were laughing as they entered, and they never stop laughing, not even for a minute. He remembered their time together as very noisy and giggly. Bantering all day long. Jack chose a pair of pants and disappeared, giving the Doctor his chance.

He approached her, confidently, adopting a southern accent, "Need any help?"

She shrugged, barely looking at him, "I dunno. I'm not really looking for somethin' specific."

He nodded in understanding, "Just got a few quid to spend and some free time, eh?"

She shrugged again, though more bashful this time, and raised her gaze. "Yeah, I guess."

The store was small, crowded with clothes, so she was closer to him now than usually. She smelled like Rose and he missed her so much. The Oncoming Storm found himself getting weak in the knees, but he was a good actor. "See what we can find for you, Miss…?"

"Rose." She smiled, but not too flirtatiously, as would a woman who traveled regularly with a flirt like Jack, an unattainable alien hottie like The Doctor and had a boyfriend home on retainer. Too many men in her life to have much energy left for random guys in random points of time. "What's your name?"

Quick, a name that won't be memorable. "Steve," he said quickly, turning away from her, "Let's see what we have here."

He made sure not to turn around until she started absently looking through shelves, taking the time to remind himself for the millionth time that what he was doing was stupid beyond words. Suddenly, something caught his eye, and he grinned. It was a cute pink t-shirt which screamed of Rose and had 'Bad Wolf' splotched across it. In glitter.

_What the hell_, he thought, picking it up. Obviously that shirt was placed in time for him to find and offer her, which meant Time at least _accepted_ - if not approved of - what he was doing enough to let him help the Bad Wolf cause. "Miss Rose?" he called.

"Yeah?"

He spread the shirt for her to see, high enough so that the Bad Wolf would splash in front of her eyes. "How's this, then?"

Rose's grin faded, as did the color from her cheeks. This was after seeing the Blaidd Drwg project, obviously. She took a step back, and he swore she was shivering. "No, thanks," she breathed, "I'm, uh… getting tired of the pink. Maybe something purple?"

He nodded, trying to hold a burst of giggles. Rose Tyler, tired of pink? _Pfft_. He took out another shirt. The exact same one, only with bigger writing and a drawing of a bad wolf. And purple. "Like this?"

She sighed, her mind already blocking this disturbing incident, and him with it. "Don't think that's my color, actually. Let's look at skirts!"

Jack came flouncing back. "Rose!" he chirped, "Look at these pants. Tell me they don't make you giddy! Best pants in the whole universe, I tell ya."

The Doctor rolled his eyes and edged away from her, closer to a section of clothes by Bad Wolf Sportswear, which he knew she'd force back into the back of her head until it was time. He could be a little bolder now, since she wouldn't remember him anyway. He could look at her a little more obviously, look at them both and feel his insides warm.

Jack noticed this, and, smirking, whispered to Rose, "I think that guy likes you."

Rose gasped and busied herself with the shelf. "Jack, he's right there! He can _hear_ you," she choked under her breath.

Jack nodded, leering at him shamelessly. "I know, and he's cute," he whispered, not bothering to lower his voice, "We have a night to kill here, go for it."

She huffed, "Yeah, I'm sure Mickey'll love that."

Oh, right, Mickey The Idiot was somewhere out there too. He remembered his former self had such negative feelings for Mickey, no matter what. Well, he had loved Rose differently back then, more possessively, even a little romantically. They stood together, side by side, _allowing_ themselves to be a little sexual. There was always a subtext with them, so obviously Mickey was nothing but an annoying fly, buzzing in his ear, taking Rose's attention.

It was different with him. He liked Mickey just fine, now, and he loved Rose like salvation. They didn't stand together anymore. He was a few steps, sometimes behind, sometimes ahead, keeping a distance from her. The man without a home, not even the Daleks to cling to. And he was afraid to let her get too close, seeing how she liked to sacrifice herself for him when he was in trouble. Case in point.

Still, Rose was his Star, always, and he didn't mind sharing her with Mickey or Jackie, just as long as he was allowed to follow the glow of her.

Jack rolled his eyes, "I can distract Mickey, if you want. He's not really my type, but I don't really have a type."

She rolled her eyes, "Shut up."

Jack went to pay for his pants, and the Doctor knew time was up. Rose grinned at him, blushing slightly, "I'm sorry about that. He's… not from around here."

"American?"

She giggled at a private joke. "Uh… sure, American. You know how they are, with their… American ways." They shared a laugh, and then she noticed Mickey nearing the store and stepped back guiltily. "Well, thanks," she murmured, "I mean, sorry."

"What for?"

"Making you look through all those shirts. I used to hate people who looked for hours and didn't end up buying anything," she answered way too quickly, backing away from him. Just as well, too. Poor Mickey already had two guys and a spaceship keeping him awake at night, no need to add salt to his injuries. She waved at Mickey, and flashed the Doctor one last smile, "I have to go, sorry. G'bye, then."

He watched them retreat, his links to humanity, and murmured, "Goodbye, Rose Tyler."

Something ugly crawled inside him as he started to make his way back.

Maybe this was why it took her such a short time to trust him, he mused. He was always around, one way or another, she must have registered him somewhere in the back of her mind. His face was familiar to her on some level. Always there. How he hated not being there now. He would have let her get close again if she were here, he swore he would.

But he couldn't. He could look at her a little bit more, but he'd have to be careful not to be seen now. He couldn't talk to her ever again. This was the last time. Last, last time. Unless… no, that'd just be stupid. Terribly silly, not to be considered.

He _could_, in theory, talk to her _before_ they met.

The TARDIS hummed in protest as if saying _enough's enough, old friend_.

The Doctor stared at the console, thinking, _too much? Cross the line?_

_Just a bit._

Yeah, she had a point. It was one thing to relive memories they shared together through new eyes, but stalking a teenager… no. It was over. Rose was gone, time to face it. Make amends, move on.

But first. He remembered an excellent little restaurant in Brazil where they celebrated their elevation to _Sir _and _Dame. _And then the Olympics, and after that he'd stop. _I swear, I'll stop. Just those two times. Please, old girl?_

The TARDIS sighed in his head, _fine. But after that, it stops._

_Promise._

-

**:-: Anger :-:**

-

Of course, the day he listened to _anyone_, himself included, would be a day of festivities.

Still, after the third time he experienced his life with Rose, twice vicariously, he knew that it was time to stop, for real. If only because he was running out of places to hide from his two selves, the stalker one and the lucky one, but also because he knew this couldn't be healthy.

It was time to say goodbye to Rose. But first.

He stepped out of the TARDIS, who was very supportive throughout his dangerous detour at insanity, and into the Torchwood Institution. Minutes after, maybe an hour. After the fight, after his other self finally let go of the wall.

Inside, so dirty. Bits of Cybermen, bits of Daleks, sickening bits of human flesh. The lever that took her away firmly placed and locked, and that _damned_ Wall.

That stupid, _hideous_, idiotic Wall.

He didn't even register his fist connecting with the wall until he saw blood dripping from his knuckles, but then he just kept punching, scratching, kicking. He had a feeling in the back of his head that if he punched through the wall, he might somehow dig his way to the other world.

And right there, kicking and screaming, he realized for the first time how alone he really was.

There was no one to stop him, no one to hold back him back, tell him he was being insane. Not even Jackie, scoffing that he was an unfit idiot, or Mickey, rolling his eyes. Or Rose. Sweet, beautiful Rose, who'd bandage his hands and plant a kiss on his forehead and hug him until he was better.

She was _so_ alive and he was _so_ alone and it was all the Wall's fault so he kept destroying it until crashing to the floor, exhausted and panting. Being a Time Lord, though, he actually did manage to bulldoze a hole right in the middle, stained in furious blood. Good for him.

He looked around at the debris, the bleeping computers filled with harmful information that the humans only ever used stupidly or for evil, and he knew what he really had to do.

Building a homemade bomb took about three minutes, which were two more than it would have usually taken him, had his eyes not been clouded with unshed tears. This was the only way to destroy all these stupid, _classified_ X-Files the little humans liked to play with. Plus, just thinking about destroying this place, along with The Wall, caused him a shiver of sadistic pleasure and even that was better that the usual nothingness.

Why'd she have to pull that lever back up, anyway? Maybe the plan would have worked. Silly girl, always rushing, never stopping to think.

Well, he did remember how the Daleks started to float around when her lever went down. But still, maybe if she took the time to lock it properly _before_… right now they could have been in Marbella, 1989, having chips or getting into trouble. Or maybe it was all his fault for not taking the right lever in the first place. He was a Time Lord, he could have held on.

God, he was so stupid.

She was the one who revived the _last_- pfft- Dalek, and then the one to destroy the _new_, half human Daleks. He should have known third time would be her charm.

He almost slapped himself. She wasn't dead. Rose wasn't dead, he had to remember that. Just because he felt like she was. Just because _he_ felt dead. She could have a great life, normal and full of human connections and healthy relationships. _Domestic._

All he had was this Wall, and in a few seconds not even that.

Watching the building destroy, the Doctor decided it didn't help at all and that the _humans_ would probably have Torchwood back up and running in a week, tops. It was time to look for Rose, if only to say goodbye. So he looked, and found her in Bad Wolf Bay. They said goodbye, she told him she loved him, he was cut right before and that didn't help at all, either. If anything, it made it worse.

Right after that he met Donna, offered to show her the world he could no longer give to Rose. He thought maybe she could be the one to stop him when his grief drove him mad, made him a cold-blooded murderer. She refused and he wasn't as sad as he should have been.

Then he met Martha, but it wasn't the same. Only now he didn't even have The Wall to keep him company, so he was left with all this pent up fury and no truly satisfying outlet for it.

He used to have so much mercy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **New episode on Saturday! The Doctor's back! Without Rose, but still, back! I'm sorry, that's not really a disclaimer. What's a disclaimer again? Oh, right, not mine. If they were mine, I'd cancel this hiatus nonsense.

**Spoilers: **Again, series 3's trailer, but nothing beyond. Anything that looks like it's from series 3 is made up by me, since I don't actually _know_ what's gonna happen, seeing how I'm spoiler-free. And a minor spoiler to episode 1x03 of _Torchwood _(The Ghost Machine), but really.

**Pretty please REVIEW, and enjoy.**

**-**

**Chapter 2**

**-**

**Rose, Pete's World**

**:-: Depression :-:**

Rose chewed on her pen pensively, crouching over a pile of bureaucratic rubbish, reports and the like, that were long overdo. _Article 3 of the __S__hadow Proclamation,_she strained her memory, trying to avoid actually looking it up in the tiresome database._ Is that the one about the wars or the one about the commerce? Or was it that weird one about interracial relationships?_

"Are you aware of the _stupid _memo your _daddy_ is passing around?"

She huffed, not even bothering to look up from her paperwork, "Blimey, Mickey, leave me be. Go play with the laser guns for a while, will ya? I'm busy." A beat, "And I never read the memos."

Mickey rolled his eyes, "Well, you should. He mandates minimal field training to the entire staff. Oh, and also, it's not fair; if _I _have to read them, so do _you_."

This did get her attention, though not for the reason he would have liked. She crinkled her nose, "Isn't it mandated already? Seems like it should be."

He seemed annoyed that she wasn't as annoyed as he was, "He's mandating it for people who have _nothing _to do with field! And who do you think is gonna have to lead it? A quid if you guess right."

Rose flashed him that special teasing smile, tongue stuck between her teeth. "Your eyebrow's twitching, which means it's gonna be you, which means _I_ get to take over your division in the meantime!" She spun around in her chair, "This is great! I'll definitely start reading the memos from now on."

Mickey smirked, "Actually, it's _you_ who's leading the program."

Her face fell, "Really?"

The smirk melted right off and was replaced by Mickey's patented Scowl of Misery, "No. Still me. But it was fun to watch you collapse into yourself for a moment there." He laughed as the smile resurfaced on her face, "And yes, you do get Field for a while, just don't get too comfortable there, you hear? 'm coming back, eventually."

Rose perked a brow playfully, "Oh, I don't know, a strategic little accident and I might have to permanently move my calendar to the prestigious second floor."

"So Alien Intelligence _and _Ethical Conducts aren't enough for you, now you're hogging my job as well?"

She shrugged, "I guess you could say that, yeah. But hang about, why isn't Jake staying in charge of Field while you're training?"

Mickey looked upwards, to the heavens, as if leading a prayer for Jake to come back, "Still negotiating with the Nestene Consciousness. Remember? We give them our garbage, they give us their trees? Otherwise _he'd_ be the one leading this ridiculous rubbish of a program." He sighed, "Anyway, I'm heading off, are you coming?"

"Few minutes."

He hesitated, "Don't be too late. Jackie's gets bothersome when you're late. More than usual, I mean."

"I'll do my best."

-

"Rose!" Jackie greeted cheerfully, delighted and still glowing, even months after giving birth. "I thought you weren't gonna make it. You work too hard, sweetheart." She took the salad from Rose's hands, coaxing her inside. "You could take a vacation every once in a while. You're the Boss's daughter, after all."

_Adoptive daughter_, Rose almost blurted, but wisely stopped herself.

"Rose, you're here. How are you, love? Good day?" Pete this time, and with baby Jenny in his arms,cooing joyfully as she usually did.

Well, what was there to upset her, after all? There wasn't a baby in the world that was more wanted than her. They might as well have called her _Rose, The Version That Should Have Been_, though she imagined it wouldn't fit in her driver's license and would, maybe, earn her some teasing from the outside world.

"Yeah, nice day," she smiled pleasantly, "Got me a whole new division, after all."

Yes, yes, point taken. Rose Tyler had become a workaholic. Who would have bet on that? Jackie couldn't be prouder; a high-class job, outside the government, beyond the police, with a _very_ nice salary, and, most importantly, no Blue Boxes or Time Traveling involved. But where Jackie saw commitment and responsibility, every person with half a brain could see that Rose was just desperately looking for a distraction.

Next came Mickey, smiling like he just won the lottery. He spread his arms and chirped, "EXTERMINATE!"

Rose stumbled backwards violently, almost crashing against the door. "What?" she asked, horrified.

Mickey frowned, "Uh, I said hello? It's a greeting thing we do here, in England."

She shook her head, chuckling. Of course he wouldn't do that. It'd be a cruel joke if she ever heard one. She was just imagining things, which was okay by her, as long as they weren't real. "Oh, sorry. 'llo, Mick. Where's Gran?"

"She's feeling _under the weather_," he said, rolling his eyes wearily, "Which only means she's fussing about more than usual." Rose chuckled, and he seemed insanely happy about amusing her as he went on enthusiastically, "I'm serious, Rose. This morning she complained that the humidity didn't fit a summer morning."

Rose kept on laughing long after the joke stopped being funny, even when she ran out of air and the laughter was only in her head. She didn't even know what she was laughing about anymore, only that if felt nice to be so lightheaded.

It was all very _brilliant _in the Tyler household, and they were really, really _happy_ all the time. And Rose was happy for her parents, really, but family meals were hard and painful and she always needed to busy herself afterwards, otherwise she'd start to cry and never stop.

Was this life really an improvement over working in the shop, she wondered sometimes.

-

"What do you mean, doesn't belong?"

"I mean just that, _doesn't belong_."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Yes, thank you, I do know the meaning of words. What I don't understand is your strange way of putting them together."

"Humans," the Doctor murmured, shaking his head with impatient sympathy. "I'll try and talk slower. There is an entity, you follow? On earth, yeah? That Does. Not. Belong. There."

Oh, my God, if he was just going to keep repeating what he said over and over again then what was the point of asking questions? Jack was beginning to wonder if the Doctor was training him to trust him and shut up, no questions asked.

Unfortunately, Jack was a glorified Asker of Questions. "An alien?"

"I'm sorry," the Doctor placed a sarcastic hand on his chest, "By _world_, I meant _universe_. It doesn't belong in this universe. And it's residing somewhere in England. _England_. The TARDIS's readingsare going wild. This thing is causing ripples all over."

"Cool!"

The Doctor stared at him.

Jack cleared his throat, "Uh, I mean, let's get to it. Do some investigating."

"Oh, yeah, do you think we should? Do you, Jack?"

Jack ignored him. If he got annoyed every time the Doctor got sarcastic with him, badmouthed him or his entire race, or was just plain _mean_, nothing would ever get done. The best counter attack, he discovered, was to treat him like he didn't exist. The Doctor was lucky he was pretty, and that leather jacket didn't hurt, either.

Eventually, the Doctor would always get back to whatever it was he was doing. "I just have to figure out a way to narrow it down to a city, at least."

"I hope it's Cardiff," Jack murmured to himself, bouncing away from the room, "I like Cardiff."

**-**

Rose held little cooing Jenny to her, examining her lovingly. She did coo a lot, but in a cute way, and generally speaking, she was irresistible, unfortunately. Hating her would have been easier than hating Harriet Jones, who had called _Torchwood_ several times, each time with a stranger, and more unethical, request, and was turned down by Rose with sadistic pleasure.

"Look at her," she murmured softly, careful not to startle the toddler, "She's twice as big as when I saw her last week, isn't she?"

Pete looked at his two daughters for a moment. He did this a lot, and Rose always wondered what he was thinking about in those moments. Finally, he said, his voice grave, "Jackie's thinking of another one."

Rose sat Jenny on her lap, tickling her. "So soon after?" she asked, as an afterthought.

"That's what I said, but you know your mother," he said, sighing.

That fatherly sentence sounded wrong, for some reason, but she shook it off, "Won't it be dangerous?"

Pete smiled, "That's just what I said."

Rose lowered her eyes, grinning slightly at the hidden compliment. He might not have been Peter Allen Tyler, The Most Wonderful Man in the World, but he was pretty close and it was still nice to get his approval. "And?"

"Might be, for the baby, at least. If not for her."

"Doesn't seem like a good idea, then."

He nodded, "I know. I think maybe she just likes having babies around."

Chuckling, she said, "I hope you're not insinuating anything."

Pete joined her, "A bit too young, still?"

"What are we talking about?" Jackie asked, coming into the room with a bottle of milk in her hand.

Pete kissed her cheek, unable to resist himself. "Babies for Rose," he answered.

Jackie groaned, "Dear Lord, Pete. What're you getting ideas in her head for? You better be kidding." She turned to Rose, misting with nostalgia, "I was about your age when I had you, you know? Not the best age to start dealin' with diapers and formulas and the sorts. Trust me."

_Well, gee, sorry_, Rose thought.

Mickey popped his head from the kitchen, "Rose, help me with the dishes, will ya? I think you owe me after taking away my department."

Rose rolled her eyes, but went to the kitchen nonetheless. She did take his department, after all.

They started doing the dishes, silent at first, when Mickey said, "I love how they just _assume_ I'd be up and ready to have babies with you, like it's only a question of _when_."

Poor Mickey, always on retainer in everyone's eyes, when truthfully, both him and Rose couldn't be _less_ ready to have children, let alone with each other. There would always be something between them, even if they had an unspoken rule to never call it by name out loud.

"I know," she said, "But don't be too hard on them, though. They're parents, they can't help it. They try, but they can't."

"Gran pulls the same routine every once in a while. I forget, how old are we?"

She grinned, "Don't fret, we're still in our prime years."

**-**

**The Tenth Doctor, **_**His **_**World.**

**:-: Bargaining :-:**

He called, "_Rose."_

But there's nothing.

A desert of a memory, a planet he hated, dusty air, and he called for Rose, but there was nothing. He crawled pathetically, trying to find solace from the dirt he breathed into his lungs.

And then Rose stood over him, tapping her foot impatiently. "Din't take long at all, did it?" she asked, her voice crueler and colder than he thought possible. He didn't know how, but he knew she was talking about Martha Jones.

"I'm sorry, Rose."

Maybe he had noreason to be,but he was still sorry.

She raised her hands with false sympathy, "Blimey, _Doctor,_ don't be sorry. I was warned, after all. Sarah Jane Smith, bless her heart. Told me everything I needed to know about you. Some things are worth getting your heart broken for. Hmm… maybe I should have questioned that a li'l further."

He sighed, more helpless than he'd felt in years, "It's not the same. I didn't _leave_ you, I _lost_ you."

"But the mourning period is pretty much the same? Few weeks, couple of months, and that's it?"

"It took me weeks to find that star!" he said desperately. "For weeks, all I did was look for that breach," not to mention the months of stalking her. He fell to his knees, unable to support his own weight anymore, "Please, Rose, don't do this."

She ignored his anguish as only dream figments could. "Weeks, is it?" she asked, unimpressed. "How much d'ye s'ppose it'll take me?"

Like talking to a solid brick wall. He much preferred his original Rose. "But I didn't leave you! Stop it!"

Finally, her cold demeanor broke. "But you tried!" she yelled, her face crumpling with tears. "You sent me away. Wasn't your fault I couldn't take a hint…" her voice cracked, she was crying freely now, "And now, if you really wanted to, you would have found a way. You're the Doctor, aren't you?"

Something shattered in his chest, "I can't. It'd open the void again, destroy the world."

Again, she ignored him completely. The hard edge was back in her voice as she tilted her head and asked bitterly, "What was it, Doctor? Was it getting too much for you? Were you feeling suffocated?"

The Doctor lowered his head, watching tears dripping into the sand, creating little holes in it. "It's not fair," he whimpered, "I never wanted to leave you! Rose, you have to believe me. I wanted you to stay with me forever."

A vicious looking smirk spread across Rose's face, an expression that was so unlike her, "Well, if you can't make a figment of your brain believe you, think how the real me must be thinking, all alone in a foreign universe, waiting for nothing."

He found his strength, and stood back up, a little more like the Doctor. "You're… _she's_ not alone. She's got her family."

Rose sighed, rolling her eyes, smiling, "Oh, Doctor, Doctor, haven't _you_ learned anything from Sarah Jane? After a life with you, after you leave someone behind for all the heroic right reasons, they're always, _always_ alone."

_I'm more alone than you could ever be,_ he wanted to say, but his throat shut down, betraying him.

Now she was suddenly whimpering, vehemence completely wiped from her face, like that day on the beach. "I'm out there," she started, choking on her own words, "In Torchwood, researching aliens, not for Queen and Country, just for the off chance that I'll find_ something_ that'll lead me back to you."

He moaned quietly, pitiful and lost, but she wasn't done in the least.

"When out here, you've already found yourself someone brand new! A girl! How wonderful for you! I wouldn't even _dream_ of intruding now, if I knew." Her voice turned sarcastic, and it felt like hot knives cutting through him. "I just wish there was some way of communicating with myself, I'd tell me to stop whatever I'm doing," she spat.

What he wouldn't give to have her back. She had to know that he'd bring her back, if he could. Even if he did try to ship her off to another dimension,even if he didn't get to say it back, she had to know.

Oh, God. How disappointed she must be, all the way out there. How heartbroken, thinking she was abandoned, like an afterthought, like she thought he did to Sarah Jane.

What was happening to him? He had to wake up.

He said, "Rose…"

She placed a finger on her lips, emptily halting him. "Shh, don't say my name out loud!" she whispered, as if sharing a precious secret. "What if you fell asleep on the console and Marhta Jones is _right_ there?Don't want to make her all jealous, would we, now? Of course not."

Bollocks that, Martha understood. He tried again, "Ro-"

She cocked her head, so unlike herself, "What'd I just say? Hush-a-bye now, Doctor. Let you get back to your life."

His surroundings, hateful as they were, started fading into blackness. Even Rose was becoming a blurry, tingling feeling in the back of his neck. He panicked, tried to hold on to her. "Rose! No!"

-

That was one of the _good_ dreams, and Martha did understand.

-

He had so many crazy ideas in his head. They came and went in the most unexpected times, without warning or mercy. They came when he was having tea or saving someone's life or showering or chattering with Napoleon ("_Well, _I _can write with my _nose_, what d'you have to say to _that_?"_).

They were crazy ideas about how he could, in theory, get Rose back, and guaranteed, they would all lead to a wound in time at best, but probably a full fledged apocalypse.

"Somethin' on your mind?"

The Doctor whirled around, startled.

"Din't mean to scare you there, just offering a service."

The Doctor groaned inwardly. Oh, _wonderful_. He was usually a patient man, but even the locals couldn't handle the street salesmen, as they mockingly called them. The Planet H'anut was known for their annoying, ferret-like people who made it their purpose to sell _stuff_. All kinds of stuff, from carrots to psychic drugs, with a strange emphasis on the former.

They sure loved their carrots, but this one had the appearance of a drug dealer.

The Doctor walked past him, hoping he would go away without a fuss.

Of course, he didn't, "It's a good service. You should hear what it is. It's made just for you."

The Doctor turned to him, eyes narrowed, "It's not… carrots, is it? Not in the mood for veggies, though you should _definitely _always finish them off the plate."

The ferret looked around, very dramatically, to make sure no one was listening to them, or possibly just making a show of it. "Not today. Today I'm selling… the future!"

The Doctor rolled his eyes, glancing at the building where he'd parked the TARDIS, "I have plenty of _future_, thank you. More future than I can handle. Really, I'm just passing by here, go away."

"What're you talking about? It's the read deal!"

That got the Doctor's attention, despite being a common phrase salespeople used. Maybe it was the delivery, the pure certainty in which he said it. Even if it was fake, it might be dangerous, and if it wasn't, well, _darn_. "What's this, then?"

He smiled with delight, as much as a ferret could, "Ah, I knew it. Just for you. Afraid I'm gonna have to charge in advance, though."

The Doctor scratched his ear, "Are you serious?"

The ferret shrugged, "Yeah, sorry. What I sell, tends to leave a mark. People forget to pay."

The Doctor paid him with money that wasn't his in the first place anyway. He kept telling himself he was doing the Planet a favor, getting rid of something that could be dangerous. He was the Doctor, it was his job, but at this point, he had to admit he was mostly curious.

The ferret, who called himself Mo, led him to a dark and dank lair. Well, _clearly_.

"So, go on, then, I'm dying to know. What did I just pay for?"

Mo spread his palms, "The fut-"

"The future, yeah. Got that. Go on."

Mo sighed, disappointed that he had to drop the dramatic act. He took out a metal device that sort of looked like a croissant, "This, my friend, is the answer to everything you've ever doubted."

The Doctor's breath caught in his chest, "That's, that's impossible! That's not… is it? A Quantum Transducer?" He took it from Mo, not even bothering with pleasantries, "It is, innit? Magnificent! I haven't seen one of these in years! I can't believe they're selling them on the streets now!" His manic grin turned into an angry scowl, "I can't believe you're selling this! On the streets! People have gone insane!"

Mo seemed confused by this development, "Uh, I… I just found it. Sorry? Can I have it back now?"

"Oh, d'you think? Yeah, of course you can." Mo reached out his hand, which the Doctor slapped, "Are you an idiot? Of course you can't have it _back_! I'm taking this with me! Go back to selling carrots."

-

He couldn't, could he? Shouldn't was more like it. It induced hallucinations, showed futures that didn't exist, pasts that were best forgotten. And they did drive people into insanity, showing them their deaths, their alternative lives, all their unrealized realities.

The buttons on the Transducer flashed and bleeped invitingly.

So, it came to this again. If he sawa Great Big Threatening Button Which Should Never Ever Be Pressed, then he'd just wanna do..._this._ He pressed the buttons, which caused the device to bleep insanely, and his surroundings changed.

-

_Rose_.

He couldn't bear this scene again, especially not when he could feel what they were _both_ feeling, him and her. He could move, which he thought impossible with these devices, but then again, he was a Time Lord, so maybe things worked differently for him.

They activated the levers, but he wasn't affected.

Time moved slowly, torturously. It was the only thing that helped him remember how _unreal_ this was.

He wasn't affected, but maybe he could affect. He walked up to Rose, just as she let go of the clamp to set the lever straight. This couldn't happen again. Couldn't _possibly_ happen again. Rose flailed madly, barely holding on, and it looked even worse when it was happening up close.

Without thinking too much, he pressed himself against her, pushing her towards the lever so that she'd have a better grip while shielding her from the void's pull. She didn't seem to be aware of him, but she also didn't seem to care that much. Neither did the Doctor, who hooted happily. He wasn't affected, and he was protecting her from the blow. _Brilliant_.

He wasn't sure she could hear him, but he whispered, "Hold on, Shiver."

Time moved slow, almost not at all, and he could feel her heart beating with adrenaline.

She struggled to keep a firm grip, not knowing she was already alright.

_I'm coming to get you_.

"I've got you, Rose," he whispered.

The pull of the void subsided eventually, and the other Doctor immediately let go of the clamp and flashed to her side. He stood before her, grinning madly. Pure, unsaturated joy. "We did it! Via the void!"

_He_ let go of her, unsurely. Rose released her grip slowly, testing the air. Her face broke in a huge grin as she pushed past him – how much _did _he exist in this reality, really? – and right into the Doctor's waiting arms. "Doctor! Oh, my God, we did it. I thought I was gonna get pulled in."

The Doctor swirled her around, the lucky bastard. _He _felt unstable, his surroundings starting to fade.

_No, please, no. Let it be real, please._

"I thought so, too, for a moment there," the Doctor said, relieved beyond human words. He looked like he would never ever let go, never wanted to. _He_ could sense his own emotions. The Doctor was already planning where to go next. Somewhere relaxing, where she could start coping with the idea of losing her family, somewhere with a nice sea, a pretty market, humans and aliens living together.

"Nicely done, Shiver," the Doctor said.

Everything faded. Time went back to normal. He was inside the TARDIS, and he was alone.

He threw the Quantum Transducer against the wall, but instead of the satisfying smash he had hoped for, the device just slid gracefully to the floor, taunting him with more possibilities. But he was never touching _that_ again.

-

He _wasn't_. Really, really _wasn't_.

-

**I hoped you enjoyed this. Sure took me a while to get it written, huh? I'm having a little trouble with the plot, but I try to make up for taking too long with long chapters. **_**Don't forget to REVIEW!**_

Thanks so much toVanderslice, Miss Sara 11, blvdgirl, yay (yay?), Morgan and templremus1990, who kindly reviewed. Here you have more, as promised. I'm _delighted_ you like this story so far.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Pfft. I friggin' wish.

**Spoilers:** Nothing _Torchwood_-ish this time, but spoilers up to _Doctor Who _3x03 (Gridlock).

As always, please REVIEW, and, uh, enjoy!

-

**Chapter 3**

**-**

**Rose, Pete's World**

**:-: Acceptance :-:**

-

"Hello, I'm here to see the prime minister?"

Marco, the receptionist, quickly shuffled through the log. "Ah, yes. You're… Miss Tyler? Special ops?"

Rose sighed deeply. Go trust the government. Lucky they didn't just underline her name and write '_TOP SECRET!'_ next to it "You know, that's really not supposed to say that." Marco raised his eyebrows, amused. She had to laugh. "I know, I know. Very BBC3. Look, this is gonna sound daft, but would you mind erasing my name off there?"

He chuckled. "Are you _serious_?"

"m afraid so, yes."

Harriet Jones stepped out of her office, "It's alright, Marco, just put on that my sister stopped by." She shook Rose's hand, trying desperately to hide her excitement, "Miss Tyler, you're a bit early."

"Call me Rose, and I'm sorry. I can wait…"

"Of course not!" she almost screeched, motioning her to go inside, "It's not everyday I get asked to have a private meeting with _To_… uh, my sister."

They sat down, and for a moment, it was awkward. It always took Rose a second to separate people she knew from memories of their actions, but not from memories of their personalities. Harriet Jones, brave MP for Flydale North, Prime Minister of _this _world, has never been in the same room with a Slitheen, has never aided in destroying 10th Downing Street.

Just a moment of processing, and she was good to go. "I have your latest request on my desk," she said.

Harriet handed her a cup of tea, "At this point I'm mostly requesting as a lark, really."

Rose smiled weakly, tried to look friendlier than she felt. Forget everything she ever thought of this woman before. "I have to admit, Madam President, that I used to reject your applications with hardly a glance, and for the _worst_ possible reasons."

This was clearly not what you'd want to hear from the second-in-command of special ops, the person with the power to blow away the entire world. And the head of the Ethics division on top of that! People like Rose were supposed to be above and beyond subjectivity. Nevertheless, Harriet Jones nodded for her to continue.

Rose weighed carefully every word that came out of her mouth. "I used to lead a very different life, you see. I used to think it was wrong to just _hand_ over weapons to people who were likely to use them. I can't get into too many details-"

"Naturally," Harriet murmured under her breath, quite bitterly.

Rose shot her a glare that was meant to remind Harried just who was in charge of this conversation, but otherwise didn't react. "Let's just say I had the luxury to think that. But that's over. _Torchwood_ now agrees unanimously that the British army should have _limited_ access to _Torchwood's_ alien weapons, seeing how the only known active rift in the world is situated over Cardiff."

Harriet stifled an urge to break into a jaunty musical number. "How limited?"

"Very, mind you. Pete's even more reluctant about this than I am. I'd suggest you'd take what you're given."

"I wasn't aware I had a choice?"

Rose remained steely, as she was trained to. "You don't. It's a one-time offer. Limited access, to be used _only_ in the worst of emergencies, preferably _after_ contacting us, alright?"

Throughout this ordeal, Rose's mind kept singing _I'm sorry, Doctor, try to understand. You're not here. Earth is _not, _in any way,_ _defended_, _we have to look after ourselves now. I'm sorry, Doctor._ Giving Harriet Jones, the Doctor's favorite antagonist, access to powerful weapons, felt like the last goodbye to him. This must be what letting go felt like.

Until then, every time Earth was under some threat, she still expected the Doctor to swan in, save the day, and swan off. But he never did. Earth was _not _defended anymore. It was up to Earth to defend itself, and finally she understood what Harriet Jones must have felt like on that dark Christmas day.

Harriet nodded, "I accept your terms."

Rose shook her hand, completely hollow. She managed to smile at Harriet, and even at Marco the Receptionist, but the minute she closed her car's door, the smile was wiped off as if it never existed. You looked at Rose Tyler now, it was unlikely that she ever smiled.

Something crept into mind, uninvited. Memories of all those long nights, with hardly any sleep at all. _The Doctor and Rose_, sitting by the TARDIS console, or shacked in little shabby hotel rooms in 1873, with only one bed and sometimes even a _campfire_ made with special fire that didn't burn the rugs. That's how awesome the Doctor was. He could make fire that didn't burn, show her seas frozen in time.

But those long nights; reminiscing, planning, laughing, cuddling, watching an old movie, deducting, and everything in between. Hardly ever sad, but sometimes, it was inevitable.

As long as they had each other for company, it didn't really matter. But now they didn't, and everything suddenly seemed less than it really was. She wondered how he adjusted. Probably well, and fairly quickly, though what was _slow _for a Time Lord, really? What were a couple of years for someone who had lived hundreds and seen billions?

Either way, all she has now is the Earth, in the 21st century, and she has sworn to protect it, whether _he_ would like it or not. _He _wasn't here, anyway. She was alone.

_Goodbye, Doctor._

-

The Doctor clicked his tongue with glee. "I am _terribly_ sorry to say, Jack, that as of now, Cardiff is officially eliminated from the list." Mind you, he didn't much like London himself, and surely not in this particularly dull period of time, but the look on Jack's face was simply too _priceless_ to let go.

Jack pouted, "Really? Are you sure? There's a very nice couple there, said I could come by again any time."

The Doctor rolled his eyes. Even by 51st century standards, Jack was more of a flirt than the world could handle, and since the Doctor wasn't the most patient person to begin with, he found that when with Jack, he often needed to count back from ten and stir away from any sharp objects. And yet he couldn't stop himself from teasing the man mercilessly.

Or, alternatively, he could –and would– always just ignore him and move on. "Right now, I think London's our best bet, _of course_."

"God, no," Jack sighed. "London's so played out."

This too, the Doctor ignored. "I wonder what this thing is," he mused, staring at the readings as if they might suddenly supply him with more answers than they already did. Race, age, shape, anything. "An entity traveling across dimensions, you know how hard to do that is? I'll tell you -_very _hard. _Impossible_, in fact. Not even _I _can do that."

"And you can do _anything_," Jack announced dramatically.

"It'd be much funnier if it weren't true," the Doctor murmured. "D'you know what else? It's like it's shielding itself! I should have a much more accurate location. A neighborhood, at least. But with this? Best I can do is a city, and barely even that! Whatever this thing is, it's _brilliant_!"

"Scrambler?" Jack asked, getting into a more professional mode.

The Doctor thanked the heavens above. At last, his daft of a Companion was willing to do some work. He was beginning to think he'd never see the day. "Possibly. Could be anything. I dunno, and I hate not knowing!"

"Well, if it's got the great _Doctor_ worried, I'm thinking it's probably pretty serious."

"See, I knew there was a reason I kept you around. Those _brilliant _powers of deduction, always do the trick." He pulled a lever, and the TARDIS swirled and whirled, choking out Jack's surely witty response.

"Doctor!" he yelped, "I hate it when you power her up without telling me!"

The Doctor shrugged, not sorry in the least. "Sorry, I thought I turned on the _Seatbelts On_ sign. My fault. Doesn't matter anyway, we're here. The beautiful city of London." He handed him a homing device, "I'll gp to the left, you go to the right, give us a call if you find it. Though with our luck, it'll probably be in the very _last _place we look."

True, his mouth was forming complaints, but it's been a while since his skin hummed with the excitement of a challenge he didn't _quite_ know how to tackle, something that would require more than the usual calculate-and-solve he was so ridiculously good at.

Jack turned around suddenly, just at the door. "Doctor?" he said quietly. "Seriously now, this thing, is it dangerous?"

The Doctor didn't answer. He had no real way of assuring him about the morality of the strange entity. Strictly speaking, it could be anything. But something inside him, and this he had no way of explaining, even to himself, told him that whatever it was, it wouldn't be bad. Bad things usually did their best to make themselves known, but this- it was shy, hidden, much like the little planet Earth he was so fond of.

Little shy hidden things couldn't _possibly_ be bad, could they?

Of course, evil sometimes hid itself as well, but he preferred not to think about that too much. He'd deal with it if it turned out to be evil, but for now, he was free to assume this mystery wouldn't be anything short of fan_tastic!_

-

**The Tenth Doctor, **_**His **_**World**

**:-: Bargaining :-:**

-

_Rose would know. Right now she'd say _exactly _the right thing._

She looked around the little shabby room, trying her best to look displeased, but really, he could tell she was secretly excited. Her eyes glowed in a way that couldn't be _just_ because of the candlelight; all that was missing was an animated little bounce to completely break her façade.

"Blimey," she murmured, smiling slightly.

The Doctor looked around as well. "Not bad at all, considering."

Her head whipped around, "Considering _what_?"

"Considering this is the year 1599, and personal hygiene is a _liiittle _bit spotty," he admitted with a careless shrug. He watched her examine the curtains, seemingly fascinated, and couldn't resist smiling, even though it was beyond him in every possible way. What was so interesting about curtains, mind you? All they did was block out the sun. _Humans._

She swirled, her laughter contagious. "I like it, actually."

"Could always go sleep in the TARDIS, though," he suggested, grinning broadly, mostly just to hear her refuse purposefully, as she usually did.

Never disappointing, she gasped, "Doctor! Where's your sense of adventure? Shakespeare is right next door, there are _witches _about, and you wanna go back to the _TARDIS_? Honestly, now.What if something happens late at night?" She looked left, looked right, her voice dropping to a whisper, "What if someone casts a spell, and we're tucked away _safely_ in our little Blue Box?"

_Our _little Blue Box. He should be bothered. Really, he should. But ever since the battle of Canary Wharf, the Doctor found that it was very hard to be annoyed at Rose. He chalked it up to gratitude, most of the time. Pretty soon she'll start getting on his nerves again, surely. "You do know there's no such thing as _witchcraft, _don't you?"

She sat on the bed, arms crossed stubbornly, "I'm not listening."

He chuckled, taking a seat on the other side of the bed as Rose started to take off her shoes.

"It's so weird, though," she suddenly said, in that chatty Rose-way of hers. "Drowning without water, you don't see something just a _little _witch-y about that? And did you _see_ that maiden hugging him just before? I saw her through the window! What would she do that for? I thought everyone was supposed to be all proper 'round here! Not to mention, he was a total _git_, and to _Shakespeare_, no else!"

He supposed she could go on like this for a while. Silly humans, all they ever did was gossip. He didn't mind, really. Not when it was _Rose_, anyway. He could just lie back and let it flow, even add a little input every now and then. Jackie, on the other hand, could drive him into madness within seconds.

And then something clicked. "Hang on, what about this person, now?"

Rose looked at him with sheer disbelief, "The maiden girl! Didn't you see her? She was standing in the corner. And then she just left after that bloke. I saw her through the window, I did! She was all over him! Blimey, Doctor." The exasperation quickly turned into a wicked grin, "I guess you were too busy drooling over Shakespeare to notice."

He pouted, "Quit it. He's a genius!"

She winked, "And not too bad to look at, eh?"

The Doctor rolled his eyes affectionately. "Not my type, really. I happen to _like_ personal hygiene. But what were you saying about that maiden girl?"

Rose bit her lip, eyes narrowed, "Did I just discover… a _clue_?"

He smiled proudly, returning her wink. "Might just have. I knew there was a reason I kept you around for so long."

"You mean, other than to save your ungrateful bum from trouble, time and time again?"

"Other than that, yeah," he admitted cheekily. "But no, it's mostly that famous Domestic Approach." He slid across the bed until he was sitting right beside her, as if they were sharing a precious, delicate secret. His voice was lowered accordingly, "So, Rose Tyler, in your professional opinion, if she wasn't after his good looks or his charming personality, what do you suppose she wanted with him?"

Rose shrugged conspiratorially, giggling, "Maybe _she's_ the _witch_!"

Again, he rolled his eyes. "Keeping in mind that there is _no such thing_, whoever she is, she must have needed to get rid of him for _some _reason. What could it be?"

He stared into air, pensive and frowning. Rose shook her head, assuming that her work was done. She pointed him in the right direction, and that was all he really needed from her most of the time, she figured. Absently leaning back, she wondered aloud, mostly to herself, "Wonder what this _Lost_ Play's all about, then. I mean, he's written about everything already! Be interesting to see it, even if the women are all men."

The Doctor bounced excitedly, "The play! The Lost Play!" He planted a feverish kiss on her forehead, and hopped up from the bed, beaming with mad rush, "Rose Tyler, _You_ are a _Genius_!"

She laughed, blushing slightly. "Well, someone has to be around here!"

He wasn't listening anymore, anxiously pacing back and forth. "He was trying to prevent the play from opening tomorrow, and suddenly he's dead? How did I miss it? But what's so special about this play, anyway? Looked innocent enough to me. I should have known. We should try looking for that girl, get her to say what she was doing…"

From the corner of his eye, he suddenly noticed Rose lying back on the bed, and halted instantly, his rant of actions thrown away as an afterthought. She opened her eyes, shaken awake by the silence. "What? What's wrong?"

He tilted his head, softened almost to the point of becoming a piece of cotton candy, and asked, "You tired?"

She shrugged apologetically, "Mystery hardly sleeps, sadly."

Sometimes he forgot she had different physical needs than him, and she let him forget. He knew that if he said he wanted to go investigating _now_, she'd comply without complaints, forever eager to prove herself. But he swore he would never _make _her feel that she needed to, or that she was expected to.

So instead, The Doctor chuckled playfully, "It's alright, no real hurry. Play's going up tomorrow night. We can put up camp for a few hours. Great minds like _yours_ need rest a-plenty. Meanwhile I can… think some… more… about, uh, something. Go on, scoot over." She did, and he plopped on the bed next to her.

Clearly not listening, she murmured, "Yeah, you… do that. Wake me up when it's sunrise."

He counted to three. It usually didn't take more than that. And as predicted, by the time he looked back at her, Rose had already fallen fast asleep, breathing evenly, so far away from him. Didn't even have the presence of mind to cover herself with a blanket, he realized, shaking his head. She must have really overworked herself today, he thought, quickly wrapping her with the blanket that covered his side of the bed.

She jolted slightly, upset with a clandestine nightmare that he was excluded from. The Doctor had always wondered what she dreamt of, where she went in those few hours. And if he ever appeared in her dreams, what face he wore for the occasion. Human dreams always seemed so remarkable to him, a true miracle. How they carried inside a person's entire soul and then were just forgotten come morning like they never were.

He ran his fingers through her hair softly, hoping that would help, but it only increased her trembling. She whimpered, and he felt it, because he could feel everything. The wind and the darkness and Rose's breathing. A thought crossed his mind, a mental note to be more attentive to Rose's needs from then on. Wouldn't want to lose her to another universe again, after all.

_Wait, what?_

He felt as if he had been punched in the gut. Little tendrils of confusion consumed every trace of happiness they could find. He didn't lose her, did he? Surely he was just being stupid. She held on, she survived, she was lying right next to him. He remembered it as if it happened yesterday.

_Will I ever see you again?_

_You can't._

For a moment, everything was as it was supposed to have been. Time stopped for just a second, just enough for him to have a clear view of what he was missing. _The Doctor and Rose_, chipper and beautiful, looking forward to the next day, the next adventure. One last breath, and everything was sucked inside and gone forever.

-

Martha's voice had cut through his hallucination. "Doctor?" she asked tentatively, edging towards him.

The Doctor let go of the Transducer with a start, fully disconnected. _Separate illusion from reality, _he told himself. _Remember where you are, remember the world._ He was sorry to admit that he was developing a skill for shaking off the painful alternative futures he created for himself and shifting back to his regular state of being.

"Doctor?" Martha tried again.

He quickly stuffed the Transducer under the console, away from Martha's view. The last thing he needed was for her to become as addicted to it as he was. He secretly hoped the TARDIS would just destroy it and save him from having to. This… this was _beyond_ unbearable.

If he started comparing everything that happened to him in reality to the idealized version his mind created –with Rose beside him– he would never be able to move on.

"What?" he asked, trying to even his heartbeats.

She shifted shyly. "Now that we've established I'm staying, d'you think we could maybe go see a good world next time?"

He shook his head, plastering a huge grin on his face, "What d'you mean?"

Martha shrugged, bashful, "You know, without witches or rhinos or Macra… and not in the slums, mind you! Or the moon! Just… somewhere nice?"

"Define _nice_."

"Not life threatening," she blurted without hesitation.

The Doctor sighed. "This might come as a shock to you, Martha, but none of the places we've been so far were _supposed_ to be life threatening." He frowned, feeling a rant on the way, "'sides, haven't you ever heard of Murphy's Law? You're just _asking_ for more trouble."

He knew it was his fault for taking the fun out of the danger. He's been treating everything with a coldness that was sometimes startling even to him. No wonder Martha was wary, and it wasn't fair to do this to her. He was clouded in grief, and still she stayed with him. She deserved better; he would try harder.

She rolled her eyes good naturedly, "Are you telling me there's not _one _point in time and space where _nothing_ bad happened?"

_Not where I'm concerned, _he almost said. Every day that started good, always ended bad. And aside from a few rare cases, it seemed that lately, every day that started bad, ended bad as well. Still, no sense in depressing the poor girl so early in the relationship. He hopped up from his seat, rubbing his palms together, "I think I can manage something. Tell me, Martha Jones, how d'you feel about amusement parks?"

A smile split her face, "I love 'em!"

There was something refreshing about her innocence, especially after being alone for so long, with nothing but the bitterness in his head to keep him company. "Brilliant! And if I were to tell you that the cotton candy was made out of clouds?"

She frowned, "Aren't clouds made of water, basically?"

"Oh, Martha Jones, not _these _clouds."

Martha looked positively _delighted _at this new concept of alien funfairs and cloudy candy. "Just tell me you didn't…" she stopped herself, quite wisely. "Just tell me it'll be your first time there, and I'll be good to go."

He knew what she was really asking, and he hoped she wasn't developing a complex because of him. There were plenty of places that weren't fortuned enough to be touched by Rose. "Well, first time there in the year 30,000, anyway," he answered without answering. Martha tensed, but he quickly added, "I used to go there all the time when I was little."

She tried to hide her sigh of relief, but really. "Well, come on, then. What are we waiting around here for? Let's go!"

As he was maneuvering through the various levers, the Transducer caught his eye again. It was lying by the console where he shoved it, _sinisterly_. Tempting. It was easy to see how people lost their lives over it. Hopefully the TARDIS was waiting for him to leave before fusing the thing. Maybe he'll come back in a few hours and it won't be there anymore.

Oh, if wishes were fishes.

-

Sorry it took so long, but it really did take long to write (and let's thank _The_ _Shakespeare_ _Code_ for practically shoving a potentially 10\Rose shipper-y scene in my face). Next chapter's already half done, _thank God._ Anyway, I hope you liked this, and if you did, please _**REVIEW**_ If you don't, then my heart'll break and I'll only have one heart working, and how will I cope? (Sorry, have to stop watching that episode while writing this…)


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **If someone ever catches someone who's _affiliated _with any show or movie writing fanfics to their _own_ shows or movies, I'll buy a hat and eat it. I, however, have nothing to do with either, therefore am not making any money.

**Spoilers:** Nothing _Torchwood-y _(besides the immortal Transducer) and nothing new of Season 3 of _Doctor Who_ (though the time line is still somewhere between _3x03_-_Gridlock _and 3x04-_Dalkes_ _in_ _Manhattan_, which is to say, episode 4 still hasn't happened.

Enjoy, and please take a second to **REVIEW(!) **and warm my little heart (who has seen _Doomsday_ again and is very, very sad).

-

**Chapter 4**

**The Tenth Doctor, His World.**

**:-: Bargaining :-:**

**-**

"Right!" the Doctor called, spinning knobs and pressing buttons. "Got our course ready! London, the Powel Estate, 2006; be there in a few minutes."

Rose leaned on the console and the Doctor wondered if she realized she was stroking bits of the TARDIS, which she always teased _him_ for doing. Next time, he would have her head. "Good, I've got piles of laundry like you wouldn't believe."

The Doctor grinned, "Oh, I believe. I saw the bag in your room the other day." He tilted his head teasingly, "I tell you, I've seen some _scary_ things in my very long life, but that bag… puts everything else to shame, it does. How many clothes have you got anyway?"

She grinned right back, "You know, that'd be funnier if we hadn't just come back from battling some _Cyclops_."

He looked up from the screen, eyes twinkling with residual adrenalin and just a _teeny _bit of contentment. "I've told you, they're _not_ called Cyclops. That's just the name you silly humans gave them." He sighed dramatically, "Like talking to a brick wall. Doesn't matter, though; you can call them whatever you liked. Doesn't matter, never mind, _no importance whatsoever_."

Rose raised her eyebrows playfully, "Doctor, you're doing that thing again."

"That _thing_? What _thing?_"

"That crazy dictionary-spewing thing," she clarified.

The Doctor's lips formed a pout that held for a pathetically short amount of time. He couldn't seem to stop himself from smiling today. What _was_ that? Possibly some sort of illness. "_Sincere_ apologies," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm _so_ used to it by now, Doctor. At least this time you didn't include alien languages."

He ignored the feigned weariness in her voice. "Did you remember to get that Bezulium?"

Rose rolled her eyes, "God, yes. Can't wait to get rid of it. The TARDIS's driving the poor thing crazy!"

She pulled it out of her pocket and held it out for him. Indeed, it was maniacally switching between hot and cold. Rose giggled, and he couldn't stop himself from giggling back, and maybe it was more than just a _teeny _bit of contentment. "Blimey!" he called, smile bigger than his face, "Look at this thing, it's gone mad!"

Just as he realized his arm was still draped affectionately around her shoulder, the TARDIS jarred, forcing them apart. Prepare to land; slight turbulences expected.

"Here we are!" the Doctor announced.

Rose clapped her hands, sharing his irrational enthusiasm. "Hold on, I'll just get the bag."

Just as she was disappearing from view, the Doctor called, "Try not to get eaten by it!"

And then he woke up, with Rose's laughter still echoing in his ears.

_What?_ His mind raced. _What is happening?_

He looked around. He was in his bedroom, on his bed. It was dark.

It was a dream.

Just a dream. Fleeting and fading and _fake_. Rose's laughter died out. He was alone in the room.

Alone, _period._

The Doctor buried his head in his hands. He had gotten rid of the Transducer to _stop _this from happening. He gave it to the TARDIS to fume and destroy so that he could _stop_. The one time he decided to take a nap lately, and God, it was so real and she was so real and they were so happy. Their last moments together.

He just wanted it all to _stop_.

-

**The Ninth Doctor, Pete's World**

-

_Oh, come on, come on, you clever little thing, figure it out_, he silently urged the tracking device in his hand. There had to be a limit to how much time it was planning to beep stupidly without actually _finding _anything.

Of course, he was answered with another unknowing bleep. If anything, it seemed that he was losing whatever faint signal he got from the mysterious traveler. Did he have to _touch _it in order for the tracker to work? Was the creature that strong? It was probably disguising itself as human, but it didn't mean the Doctor was planning on touching every other person that passed him by.

Well, depending on how desperate the situation got, anyway. Something told him Jack would be simply _thrilled _with that particular assignment. In fact, he might have already figured the tracker worked better when touch was implied and was now in the process of harassing the whole of London.

Oh, hell.

He leaned heavily on the building behind it, vaguely recognizing it as Canary Wharf. What was it that they did there again? He couldn't remember, and furthermore, he was a little bit distracted by the tracker, which suddenly started TO BLEEP MADLY!

It took only a second for the Doctor to register what was happening, and when he did, he straightened up so abruptly that the tracker almost slipped from his hand. _What? How? What?_

The tracker's signal had gone completely wild, as a person would if he found his keys after two _days_ of looking for them. The Doctor looked around, confused. Nothing looked different. He tried pointing the tracker at different directions, but the more he tried, the weaker the signal turned again.

Bloody hell, what did he do? Did it pass him through? Unlikely.

He tried to repeat his moves. A few steps back to where he was, maybe it was in the sewers.

Nothing.

A few steps forward.

Nothing.

He sighed, leaning on the building again. This was hopeless.

BLEEP!

Again, the tracker went insane. The Doctor jumped, startled, and stared at the building with disbelief. Really? _There_? Wasn't it the home of the National Bank or something of the sort? Maybe he was wrong. He tried letting go, and indeed, the tracker went dead again. _Interesting. _Conspiracies were usually pretty fun. Of course, he assumed he was looking for a _person_, not a building. Although, who knew these days.

Either way, he had to get in.

He dialed his phone quickly, hardly waiting for Jack's cheerful hello before spitting, "Where are you?"

"Doc?" Jack answered. "I'm in just a few feet away from the TARDIS, why?"

"Come to Canary Wharf. I found it." He hung up without another word.

Security seemed average. Some people entered with ID cards, some without. He caught glimpse of a lady's ID and created a mental image for the psychic paper. Everything was coming up _Doctor_!

He quickly joined the line of people waiting to get in, even bumped into the woman in front of him and the man behind him for good measure, just in case they were the creature. They weren't. They were, however, a little annoyed with him, but no matter. He was very, _very_ curious about this new secret building.

"ID?" the guard said, very official-like.

Just before the Doctor had the opportunity to flash him the psychic paper, someone cut in, passing him with a fleeting ''scuse me' and going through the metal detector -which beeped furiously- without undergoing any sort of security examination for any weapons. It was all _clearly _innocent.

She was a young, blond woman. Too young, in his opinion, to be involved in whatever secret operation that_ obviously_ operated in the building. But what was even _more_ interesting about her was that she bumped into his shoulder slightly on her way, and when she did, the tracker in his pocket practically burned a hole through.

_Blimey_! he thought, head buzzing with adrenaline. _Got you, finally._

"Welcome back, Miss T… uh, Miss," the guard greeted her, waving enthusiastically.

She turned her head briefly to acknowledge him, but –_of course_- not enough for the Doctor to catch a good glimpse of her face. Just his luck.

He tried to see where she was going, but the guard stared at him expectantly, and by the time he got his psychic paper out and lifted his gaze back to search for her, she was gone. Probably through a secret elevator of some sort.

The security guard grinned, "Is this your first day, Mr. Smith?"

"What? Oh, yeah, it is."

"Welcome aboard, then. I think you might want to see the receptionist back there. Lots of offices back here, wouldn't want you to get lost."

The Doctor nodded, plastering on the stupidest grin he could muster, "Thank you! I will."

"Wait, actually you won't even have to do that! Here's Tosh! She works for the Bank, too. Don't you, Tosh?" The woman in question nodded courtly, and the guard continued, "Oh, no need to bother with your ID, Tosh, I know who you are. Just show this gent here where the office is. He's going to be working with you. Show her your card, Mr. Smith."

The Doctor flashed the paper back without even thinking about it. A glimpse of blond caught his eye and he was determined to track it down this time. Luckily, Tosh took hold of his arm and ushered him in the blonde's exact direction.

"You're here to see Jake, yeah?" she asked pleasantly, earning a distracted nod from him. "I didn't know he was even hiring. Come on, now, this way here."

It was only when he was actually standing in front of a door labeled _Jake_ _Simmonds,_ that the Doctor finally realized he wasn't _actually _there to grab himself a new job and that he would have nothing to say to this Jake person. Not to mention, no sign of the blonde creature from before.

Oh, well, might as well apply for a job while he was at it. If anything, it'd buy time until Jack got there. He nodded at Tosh, who nodded back tightly, and opened the door.

Only to find himself facing at least ten very big guns pointed at his head.

"Ah."

One of them, a stern-looking young man, motioned at him with his -again- _very _big gun, "Hands in the air, please."

The Doctor obliged, honestly not very sure what should be said on such an occasion.

"He tried to walk in with a psychic paper," Tosh informed them, also pointing a gun –albeit a smaller one- at his head. "I don't think he knows what's going on. He just _let_ me bring him here."

The stern one nodded, _sternly_, "Well, who are you, then?"

The Doctor grinned maniacally, "I'm the Doctor, nice to meet you."

"Oh, you're _definitely _not the Doctor," the stern one said. "Wanna try again? I advise it."

Pouting, the Doctor insisted, "No, seriously, I am!"

"Check him," Tosh ordered.

A man and a woman approached him, completely covered by a shield that might block his sonic screwdriver. Not that he would ever use it to hurt humans, but maybe it'd be a good idea to grab one and threaten his way to a safe exit. Of course, could be that if he made any sudden movements, he would find himself with no head.

A dilemma, indeed.

"Jake, Sir," the woman said, "He has a… what's it called? A sonic probe thing."

The stern one, who, apparently, was the Jake who owned the office, corrected her, "Screwdriver. I saw it before. The _real_ Doctor had one."

"He also has this… thing," the man said, holding the tracker in his hand. "What _is_ that?"

"Excuse me," the Doctor interrupted politely. "While you're poking around my personal property, would you mind telling me who's this _other_ Doctor you keep referring to? Can you maybe describe him? Because, you know, sometimes I go by another face."

Jake looked unsurely at Tosh, who shrugged. "Brown long coat, brown hair, silly shoes, bounced about a lot?"

The Doctor frowned, "No scarf? Or old?"

"No."

"Ah."

"What does… _ah_ mean?" Tosh asked as they finally finished searching the pockets that were _visible_ to them.

The Doctor waved his palm dismissively, careful not to set the shooters off. "Oh, nothing. No worries. It just seems I have an imposter. Was bound to happen sooner or later. Now, what is this here, exactly?"

Jake sneered, "Oh, _he's _the imposter, is he? Right." He turned to the others, "Is that all he has on him? Have you found anything?"

"Nothing to determine who he is," the woman informed.

"Keep telling you who I am," the Doctor murmured.

Jake ignored him, "Okay, custody then. Let's get the… _Doctor_ a nice cell, _without _the screwdriver. I'll go get Rose." He sighed, exchanging a wary look with Tosh, "God, she's gonna _love _this. Someone going by as the Doctor. I wouldn't wanna be on the other end of _that_." He shot the Doctor a glance, and when received with a blank stare, shrugged, "Go on, then. Custody!"

On his way, he finally caught a name splattered in tinted glass.

_Torchwood_.

He wondered what Jack would do to get in. But in the meantime, he wasn't worried. The people seemed nice enough, no murder tendencies as far as he could see. He would have liked the option to contact Jack, but obviously, he was under constant surveillance. Either way, in the end they'd have to realize he was the real Doctor.

Perhaps this _Rose_ person would be more willing to listen.

-

"I'm sorry, he calls himself _what_?"

Jake sighed, "I know, I know. He insisted and everything. Just walked in here with a psychic paper and a sonic screwdriver."

Rose pursed her lips angrily, squeezed the pen she was holding. _Deep breaths_, she told herself. There was a professional way to obliterate the asses of sleazy gits who dared go by the Doctor. Or there will be, as soon as she writes up a Code of Conduct for dealing with vile phonies of this nature. "Where is he now?"

Jake felt truly sorry for the poor guy. "Custody."

With a nod, she was out of the room and storming through the _Torchwood_ halls.

Too angry to think about all the things that made absolutely no sense about the situation.

The custody area's doors opened with a swish of metal that she hated almost as much as she hated whoever it was that was inside. She stomped in, arms crossed in red fury, and came to stand in front of the cell.

And all the air was sucked from the room.

-

The Doctor tapped his foot impatiently. The infamous and dangerous _Rose_ (he assumed) really didn't look like much of a threat. She was pale and frightened and he was pretty sure that if he so much as got up from the metal chair, she'd probably start screaming and run away.

Well, it was understandable. Culture shock, happened to the best of them.

"Hello!" he chirped, waving a friendly hand.

If anything, she seemed even more scared. The sound of his voice sent her stumbling to the door, putting as much distance between them as she could.

_Tough crowd_, he thought, clicking his tongue pensively. "You'd be Rose, yeah? I was told you were coming. Sounded like you know me. You do… know me, don't you? They don't believe I'm the Doctor!"

Rose leaned on the door, unable to hold her weight. She shut her eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and opened them, as if trying to shake off a bad dream. Except he wasn't a dream. He was still _there_, and his grin widened reassuringly.

A mad grin and _huge _ears and God help her, this wasn't happening.

"Do-Doc-" her voice failed her, shaky and choked, "Doctor?"

"Hello!" he waved his hand again, endlessly pleased. He knew this situation was _bound_ to resolve itself eventually. "Yes, that's me, the Doctor!"

Really, maybe he should stop saying that. It seemed that every time he identified himself, her knees buckled just a little more. It was all very surreal. Luckily, he did surreal before the morning tea.

Rose shook her head violently, "But… _how_?"

"How what? How am I here? Why, did you maybe meet me when you were a little girl?" he asked, sincerely trying to be helpful. "That'd make sense, I guess. I don't remember you, but maybe my future met your past? It happens. I'm still the same man, honestly. I just… don't grow old. And I may _occasionally_ travel in time."

Future self met her past. Yeah, that theory made sense.

"_What_?"

Except, apparently not to _her_.

He frowned, "Hmm… no? Then how do you know me? History books? The internet?" He was now deep into a rambling fit, momentarily distracted from the predicament he got himself into. "Or maybe… I understand I have an imposter. Right _inconvenient_, that. But you know he's not really me, don't you? You know I'm the Doctor, right? Right, Rose?"

Suddenly, she seemed to snap. "Stop saying that!" she called, nearing the glass that separated them with deadly rage. "Who the _hell _are you?"

The Doctor was startled to a standing position. It was a bit easier now to see what was supposed to be so scary about this girl. "I'm… the _Doctor_?" he tried squeakily.

Rose practically sizzled with rage. "Oh, I think _not_. You've got your information wrong, see? The Doctor doesn't _look_ like that, and you've broken into the _one _place where people would know." She crossed her arms, inches away from the glass, and she was armed, he could tell. "Who are you, then? How are you making yourself look like _that_?"

He cleared his throat nervously, somewhat grateful for the bullet proof glass. "Sorry, I don't know what you're talking about. I haven't been in this time period for a while… I guess that other guy really did a number here. I'm sorry, but I really am the-"

"_Stop that_!" she hissed, angrily cutting him off.

He silenced instantly, deciding on a new approach. "Alright, then. You're right, I'm… not the Doctor."

Rose raised a sarcastic brow, "Oh, really?"

"Yes, _really_," he said, his goodwill dwindling. "'m just a time traveling friendly alien. I'm sorry for taking on… that name. _Sincere_ apologies. Could you let me go now? And can I have my stuff back while we're at it?"

He'd have to find another way to the creature, but it'd be worth it if he could just _get out of here_ already. He was tired of talking to brick walls.

Rose lowered her eyes, desolated despite herself. "I… uh, I'm not sure we can just do that."

The Doctor narrowed his eyes. He felt a strange urge to take her hand and make it better. Very strange, and very unsettling. He opened his mouth, but no voice came out because as much as he hated being quiet, there was really nothing to say.

She looked up at him, her eyes expectant, almost hopeful. "How did you… why _him_?" she asked, swallowing hard. "Of all the… why did you choose to look like _him_?"

He wanted to scream, to pound the glass, to kick the table away. What the hell was she talking about _now_? Who's _him_? He had no time to wonder if he should just invent himself an alias –like a shapeshifting or telepathic adjustement- and get it over with, or just sort the matter of his identity once and for all, because suddenly his surroundings started to fade. To _fade_!

The last thing he saw was Rose stiffening in confusion, which was a sentiment he could get behind, and then he was in the TARDIS, and Rose was replaced by a smirking Jack.

-

Made it this far? Well, Huzza for you! (_Huzza!_), now pretty please post a _teeny weeny _**REVIEW(!)**?


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